


Free Fall

by DameRuth



Series: Flowers [33]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, M/M, Team Torchwood deserved more things like this IMO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24828232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameRuth/pseuds/DameRuth
Summary: The Torchwood team has a Grand Day Out, and Ianto gets the inside of his head somewhat rearranged. Direct sequel to the double-drabble set"FYI"and"Earned Benefits."[Continuing the Teaspoon imports, originally posted 2009.06.24.]
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Series: Flowers [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/14017
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Free Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, the last of the [April Support Stacie auction](http://www.majiksfanfic.com/phpbb/viewforum.php?f=101) fics is done! Many thanks to Kholly, winner of my Torchwood bidding thread, for being patient (and, of course, for bidding in the first place!). The request was a continuation of the double-drabbles I'd written earlier . . . and this time it's considerably more than 200 words! Thanks also to aibhinn for her usual, greatly-helpful beta-ing services. Finally, this is a great time to point out that a [September Support Stacie auction](http://www.majiksfanfic.com/phpbb/viewforum.php?f=111) is in the planning stages (hint, hint!)

The Doctor poked his spiky, brown head out of the TARDIS door before the last echoes of materialization died away. He blinked at the lineup waiting for him in the Plass and broke into a delighted, open-mouthed grin.  
  
“Oh, _hel_ -lo! Look at you, all ready to go. I like that. Come on, then, come inside . . .” He bounced out of his ship and began making ushering motions with his free hand while he held the door with the other.  
  
Gwen, Owen, and Tosh traded sidelong glances, a little daunted by the Doctor’s manic glee. It was one thing, Ianto was sure, for the others to know that Jack was keeping a bit of alien on the side — or to find oneself suddenly working with that alien in an emergency situation — but something else again to be faced with the prospect of stepping into said alien's spaceship for a quick jaunt off the planet.  
  
Ianto decided it might speed things up if he took the lead.  
  
“Hello, again, Doctor,” he said, smiling and nodding cordially as he slipped through the door and into the TARDIS.  
  
"Ianto Jones, welcome back aboard." the Doctor replied, his tone equally cordial, despite the formality of using Ianto's full name as a greeting.  
  
Between Ianto's lead and Jack's amused and unsubtle pushing from behind, the others began moving towards the TARDIS. One thing they had working in their favor: they were hand-picked and trained by Jack and Jack alone. Canary Wharf was a mere story to them, and they'd never been exposed to Torchwood London's anti-Doctor bias, so they had no ingrained reflexes to overcome.  
  
Tosh was next in line, and the Doctor greeted her happily. "Doctor Sato! It _is_ good to see you again! We never did have a chance to get properly caught up, last time I saw you." He held out a welcoming hand.  
  
Tosh looked flustered and confused, glancing back over her shoulder for reassurance from Jack. "It's just Toshiko, and I'm not sure where we'd've met before . . ." she began, automatically taking his hand.  
  
"London," the Doctor said, shaking her hand and gently pulling her forward at the same time. "I just looked different back then -- still, you must remember the ears. They were hard to forget. And the pig alien? Blimey, those were the days, weren't they?" He passed her inside the TARDIS before she had time to reply, his attention already focused on the next person in line.  
  
"Gwen Cooper -- it's good to see a familiar face again!" He winked at her, but whatever the joke might have been it was clearly lost on Gwen, who accepted the welcoming handshake readily enough, but shot Ianto a questioning look over the Doctor's shoulder. Ianto shrugged, trying his best to convey a casual, _He's always like this._  
  
"And this must be the infamous Doctor Owen Harper -- _you're_ really a doctor, I trust?"  
  
Owen's eyes narrowed. Oh, this had the potential to get very interesting indeed.  
  
"Yeah, _I'm_ a doctor. What's it to you?" Owen replied, tone bordering on the belligerent already.  
  
"Brilliant!" the Doctor told him, holding out a hand which Owen took as automatically as Tosh and Gwen had. "I love having another doctor on board. Nothing like a good paradox. Get it? Pair o' docs?" He tugged Owen through the door.  
  
Owen met the Doctor's wide, hopeful grin with his very best, _You have got to be fucking_ kidding _me_ expression.  
  
The Doctor, completely failing to respond to Owen's glare, passed him through and nodded at the remaining member of Torchwood. "Captain."  
  
"Doctor." Jack nodded back, their traded glance full of amusement . . . and more. Ianto glanced away for a moment. That was long enough for Jack to slip aboard and close the TARDIS doors behind him.  
  
The others were trying not to gape around the huge organic-industrial control room, finally experiencing the concept of "bigger on the inside" in person. The setting made them uncharacteristically quiet and tractable as the Doctor herded them up the gangplank and began arranging them around the safety rail with the fussy cheer of a rather geeky young science teacher organizing students on a school trip.  
  
"Yes, just stand there -- be sure to keep a hand on the railing; I doubt we'll encounter any turbulence on such a short trip, but you never know . . . Brilliant! Just like that. Oi! _Don't_ touch . . ." the last was directed at Owen, who'd been reaching for the control panel. "The controls are bio-locked, on my personal signature. The old girl'll give a nasty shock to anyone else."  
  
Ianto, having seen Jack work the controls alongside the Doctor, knew that wasn't quite true, but he didn't contradict; among other things, the image of Owen accidentally sending them all a million years into the past was vivid and undesirable. Jack didn't say anything either, Ianto noticed. Torchwood's director was leaning his hip against the railing, arms crossed, fighting not to smile.  
  
"Right!" the Doctor was continuing. "I think we're settled. Just hold your positions and we'll be there in a tick." He slipped on a pair of spectacles that made him look even more like a schoolteacher and began circling the controls, practically dancing with enthusiasm.  
  
"God, he should be giving cut-rate tours -- 'Please keep your hands inside the vehicle at all times . . .'" Owen said in a sarcastic undertone to Tosh. Ianto, standing on Tosh's far side, barely heard him, but the Doctor paused and glanced over his shoulder at Owen. Behind the bookish spectacles, the Time Lord's eyes had gone dark, and there was a hint of frost and steel in his face, even though his voice, when he spoke, was mild and friendly.  
  
"If you'd like to keep all your limbs attached, then yes, I suggest you do just that. But it's your choice," he told Owen.  
  
Owen blinked, and, amazingly, subsided.  
  
Ianto decided the whole thing was already worth it, right then and there, though he kept his features bland.  
  
The Doctor resumed his cheerful dance around the controls as if the interruption had never happened, and the central column began to move, filling the air with the shudder and roar of dematerialization.  
  
Jack kept his arms casually crossed, but the rest of Torchwood clamped their respective hands onto the safety railing in immediate, nervous reflex -- even Ianto. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that the entire ship (marvelous as it was) was held together with little more than sticky tape and good intentions.  
  
Less than a minute later, the Doctor flipped a toggle switch with a showy swipe of his hand and the rotor stilled. He turned and bounded down the rattling gangplank toward the double doors. "First floor -- low geostationary orbit and a lovely view," he called out. "Come and see!"  
  
After a few traded glances, they complied, with Jack, still radiating easy amusement, bringing up the rear.  
  
With a showman's flourish, the Doctor threw open the doors, and there was the world, silent and serene, a beautiful sweeping curve of blue, white, green and brown wrapped in a translucent shell of air.  
  
They were all silent for a moment as the sight deserved, not even Owen capable of making a smart remark with that vision before him.  
  
The familiar outlines of the British Isles, partly obscured by cotton-white tufts of cloud, were clearly visible in the northern hemisphere, looking dauntingly tiny. The Doctor broke the silence by commenting, "Looks like you'll be getting rain in Cardiff later today. Not that that's news, I suppose . . ."  
  
That was the cue for people to begin talking, pointing out familiar features that were (or weren't visible). Gwen, her face alight with wonder, stretched out a wondering hand. "It looks as if you could touch it . . ." she began, but was interrupted when the Doctor, quickly but gently captured her wrist.  
  
"Ah. There's a forcefield bubble over the door," he said, drawing her hand back away from the open doorway, "but it isn't limitless. I wasn't _entirely_ joking about keeping limbs attached." His voice was very kind, but Gwen flushed in embarrassment. Still, she smiled back at him when he gave her a bright, reassuring grin.  
  
From then on, the resemblance to a school trip became acute, at least for Ianto, who, having seen the sights once before, found himself watching his fellow travelers more than the planet below. The Doctor appeared to be enjoying himself at least as much, if not more, than the humans, talking a mile a minute about continental drift, weather patterns, different types of satellites and orbits, ionic radiation, jet streams, ocean currents, the ozone layer and any other topic brought up by the others' comments and questions, pointing out salient features as he spoke.  
  
Once the novelties from the longitude of the Greenwich Meridian had been exhausted, the Doctor left the others at the door while he returned to the controls for a change in location, though he continued to shout out pointers and trivia over the TARDIS's engine noise.  
  
That part of the tour was new to Ianto, too, and it was riveting in a roller-coaster, possible-death way. Even Jack was left wide-eyed and pale after an inspired fly-by of the Hubble. Tosh was delighted, but Ianto would have been happier if there'd been a bit more than what looked like three meters' clearance between it and them. _I will never complain about Jack's driving again . . ._  
  
After a swooping trip to hover over the South Pole and marvel at the flickering halo of cold fire that was the aurora australis, the Doctor returned to a stationary orbit over the nightside of that planet, allowing everyone a breather, along with a chance to pick out (and play guessing games over) the glittering gold dust of distant cities.  
  
Ianto, standing a bit back from the other members of Torchwood, who were crowded at the door despite the faint, seeping chill of space oozing through the forcefield, was suddenly aware of a silent presence at his elbow. He'd been half-expecting it, so he managed not to jump. Much.  
  
The Doctor slipped off his schoolmaster's spectacles and slipped them into his breast pocket, but his expression was pleasant as he motioned Ianto up the ramp and toward the controls, using just a jerk of his pointed chin and a twitch of his expressive eyebrows to convey his intent. Ianto followed with no particular trepidation; after all, they were completely within the Doctor's domain here and being a few meters closer to the others wouldn't provide anything but the illusion of additional safety. Herd instinct, nothing more.  
  
Not that Ianto had any fears for his safety at this point. He was long past considering the Doctor an actual threat. His wasn't a _comfortable_ presence, nor a particularly welcome one, but his intentions seemed good enough.  
  
The Doctor idly considered his ship's controls with an air of long habit, making an occasional adjustment here and there. His brown eyes, when he glanced in Ianto's direction, were calm and considering. He could have been completely human: no odd glints of gold visible in his irises, no weird, projected glamour, none of his skin-crawling, vibrating energy in evidence.  
  
"Jack tells me you were the one who requested this little excursion," the Doctor said, making the statement a question. His voice was pitched lower than it had been while he was in hyperactive lecture mode, relaxed, with a bit of that characteristic lilt-and-burr showing through.  
  
"Yes," Ianto answered, leaning against the safety railing, carefully keeping his distance from the controls, mindful of the earlier warning. "I didn't think you'd mind."  
  
"Not at all. Quite the contrary."  
  
"So I noticed," Ianto said, risking a faint smile.  
  
The Doctor looked amused, unoffended by the mild teasing. Then he turned and leaned back against the edge of the console, looking toward the open door and the others, who were still busy pointing and chattering among themselves. "If I had my way, _everyone_ would see this," he said, going serious. "I can't help but think a lot of attitudes would change, and probably for the better . . ."  
  
"Nice thought, anyway," Ianto said, following the Doctor's gaze and considering his fellow humans.  
  
Tosh appeared to be pointing out nighttime features of the Japanese islands to Owen, who was almost-but-not-quite leaning against her as he sighted down her arm. He might be playing dense on the surface, but at some level he wasn't as blind to Tosh's affection as he made out. While Ianto was privately of the opinion that Tosh could do a lot better, he still had hopes his two co-workers could sort things out eventually.  
  
His attention shifted to Jack and Gwen, and speaking of situations that needed sorting out, they were in nearly a mirror image pose to Tosh and Owen — except that Gwen _was_ pressed against Jack's side, her interest in where he was gesturing clearly secondary to the opportunity for contact. Jack couldn't possibly be missing her intent, but he was just as obviously letting it happen.  
  
_Bloody hell, I sure hope they figure out what they're doing before Gwen's wedding,_ Ianto thought, irritated. _Otherwise, that'll be far more interesting than it needs to be._ Much as he hated to see two people he liked so knotted up, it was hard to have too much sympathy when they were doing it to themselves. Not to mention that Rhys was a good, solid bloke. Still, although there were days he wanted to crack their heads together in hopes of knocking in a little sense, he knew his open intervention would only make things more complicated and uncomfortable. Subtle nudging of both parties didn't seem to be working, either, leaving him at a bit of a loss.  
  
Ironic, to see how quickly the little social dramas of everyday life resurfaced, even against such a cosmic backdrop. Universal truths at work, no doubt.  
  
The Doctor, responding to Ianto's comment, snorted through his impressive nose. "You're awfully young to be that cynical," he said. Then he continued, more cheerfully, "Still, looks like everyone's enjoying themselves."  
  
Ianto managed to keep from jerking his head around, but his attention snapped immediately to the Doctor. Was that sarcasm? Commentary? Disconcertingly, the Doctor's face showed nothing but benign, even avuncular, fondness as he watched the Torchwood team.  
  
_Is he really not seeing any of that? Or is he only pretending not to?_ There was nothing false about the Doctor's expression, not the slightest hint of irony in the timbre of his voice. How alien was he, really? Could he pretend to be so convincingly human and yet not be able to read the body language on display? _Or does he see it and just not care?_ For the most part, the Doctor didn't seem the possessive type, but Ianto had seen proof that he was capable of at least a certain degree of jealousy, at least when it came to Jack.  
  
The Doctor, noticing Ianto's attention, raised his eyebrows in a slight, mild, questioning expression.  
  
Seeking to cover his uncertainty, Ianto managed a small smile, "Torchwood's Grand Day Out," he said. "Pity the moon isn't really made of cheese."  
  
He expected the reference to go right past the Doctor, but he was rewarded with a laugh and a broad grin.  
  
"Just as well. I think I'm completely out of crackers at the moment. Bit of nice Wenslydale would hit the spot, though." Still smiling, the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. "The moon does make a fine day trip. Maybe next time."  
  
_Next time._ The idea that anything this strange could ever become regular, almost ordinary . . . Ianto shook his head, bemused. "Guess we could use a shot of inspiration, now and then. It's not an easy job, getting through the twenty-first century," he admitted, remembering some of Suzie's bitter, discouraged rants towards the end. Both endings. He wondered if seeing even a glimpse of something sublime, rather than sordid, would have made a difference to her, and shivered slightly. "Still, at least we know we succeed in the long run."  
  
The Doctor tilted his head, curious. "What makes you say that?"  
  
"Well, Jack's from the future. If we didn't manage to keep the human race in one piece, he wouldn't be here, would he?"  
  
The Doctor laughed again, but this time, low as it was, it sent Ianto's skin crawling. There was something terrible, dark and pitying in the sound, and it reminded him of who and what he was talking to. _God, he almost had me fooled_ again _, he always gets me buying into his human act . . ._  
  
"It's not that simple," the Doctor told him, with wry amusement in his voice and pitch-black eyes that weren't amused at all. "Time isn't linear, or stable. History isn't carved in stone. It can all change, in a heartbeat, a nanosecond. Nothing is safe, nothing is sure, nothing is permanent -- well, one thing, but our Captain's a special case. But no species, no civilization, no planet is guaranteed its safety. Every moment remakes every other, from the beginning to the end. Jack's presence predicts nothing." There was nothing condescending in the Time Lord's tone but there was no mercy, either. Just truth.  
  
Ianto swallowed against the way his stomach seemed to be falling and twisting at the same time. His eyes were drawn to the darkly-luminous vision of Earth's nighttime face, spangled with the myriad lights of human civilization. It seemed impossibly fragile, all of a sudden, more vulnerable than a soap bubble floating against the backdrop of the Universe. The cheerful, ordinary voices of his teammates did nothing to ease the wave of renewed care and terror that ran through him as he considered the impossible responsibility that had been dropped, all unknowing, into their hands.  
  
He looked back at the Doctor, who was watching him in a measuring, considering way, as a man might consider some tool or device, weighing its suitability for a task. The last time Ianto had been looked at that way was by Jack, just before he'd been hired at Torchwood Three, but this was far, far more intense. He would have found it deeply disconcerting if he wasn't already about as disconcerted at it was possible to be without descending into screaming terror.  
  
"Well," he said, and swallowed again. "That's . . . unsettling."  
  
The Doctor chuckled, the sound lighter than before, tinged with compassion now. "What?" he asked, tone gone teasing, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a genuine smile. "You want to discuss the nature of Time and you expect it to be _reassuring_?"  
  
Ianto managed a shaky smile in return. "A man can hope," he said, with a decent attempt at dryness.  
  
That earned him an outright, delighted laugh, the Doctor's powerful personality sparkling and infectious now. It hit Ianto hard, and he fought to regain his internal equilibrium. It didn't help when the Doctor's full attention focused on him again, open and unguarded this time. The Time Lord's eyes were half-lidded, his chin faintly lifted, in an expression that Ianto would have called an outright come-hither look from a human. It was magnetic, but there was no sexuality to it, none. It would have been simpler if there was; Ianto understood sex. But the Doctor's compelling attraction touched something even deeper. The mind, maybe. The heart. The soul.  
  
_Now I remember,_ Ianto thought, shivering from the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes. _This,_ this _is why I'm scared of him . . ._  
  
"Do you know, Ianto Jones," the Doctor said, and the background burr and lilt always hiding in his voice was especially pronounced, giving the words a velvety texture, "in another time and place, I'd've asked you to travel with me." His eyebrows lifted with flirtatious humor as he spoke.  
  
With a sense of balancing on a cliff, one step away from free fall, Ianto took a deep breath and replied, "In another time and place, Doctor . . . I would have."  
  
It seemed to be the correct answer, judging by the Doctor's pleased smile. _Dimples. Aliens should_ not _have dimples, that's just wrong._ Whatever the Time Lord might have said in return was lost, though, when Jack called out, "Hey, Doc, come settle an argument for us! Is this Calcutta or not?"  
  
"Blimey," the Doctor said, cocking an eyebrow, silently inviting Ianto to share the joke. His voice was back to being lighter and more human. "I think I may have a future as a cut-rate tour guide after all." He fished his spectacles out of his suit pocket, snapped them open and slipped them on, transforming once again into the geeky young science teacher ready to answer his students' questions. He winked at Ianto, then loped down the ramp in response to Jack's summons.  
  
\---  
  
Glancing at the cloud-veiled sun as the last echoes of the TARDIS's dematerialization echoed around the Plass, Ianto estimated that about an hour had passed between their departure and return, which agreed with what his stopwatch said. Subjectively, it felt as if it had been far longer.  
  
The rest of the team was still happy and excited after their adventure (though Owen was trying to hide it, now they were back in familiar territory), Jack no less than the others, feeding off their pleasure and energy and returning it in full measure. By speedy and unanimous decision, a long lunch break was declared, complete with a stop at their usual pub. As they all began walking in that direction, Jack fell back to match strides with Ianto, dropping a friendly, heavy arm across his shoulders.  
  
"Looked like you and the Doctor were getting along well back there," he said as an opener, sounding pleased while proving once again that he seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. Ianto would have sworn Jack hadn't been paying attention to anyone but Gwen during his conversation with the Doctor. "What did you talk about, if I can ask?"  
  
"You can ask." Ianto thought a moment. " _Wallace and Gromit_ and the true nature of Time, that was most of it."  
  
Jack laughed, his ringing, open belly laugh. "That sounds about right. It's a trip, talking to him, isn't it? Does weird things to the inside of your head . . ."  
  
"You can say that again." Ianto was silent a moment, then added. "He also said that in another time and place, he would have asked me to travel with him."  
  
"He only takes the best," Jack said, sounding proud and unfazed. "Would you go?" He seemed genuinely interested.  
  
"I . . . not now, not the way things are," Ianto admitted. "He still freaks me out, honestly."  
  
"Really? Even though he likes you?" Jack seemed to be having trouble absorbing that. "Why?"  
  
Jack, Ianto realized, didn't exactly have an objective view of the matter. Sometime long ago, Jack had stepped off a certain cliff and never looked back. _Different cliffs for different people . . ._  
  
"It'd be hard not to lose yourself around him," Ianto said, finally, as they reached the pub and made to follow Tosh, Gwen and Owen inside. "Even harder than it is around you."  
  
That earned him one of Jack's sharp-eyed, evaluating looks. "Huh," Jack said. He didn't sound upset, only thoughtful. He dropped his arm from Ianto's shoulders as he opened the door and they both slipped inside, enveloped by the ordinary, familiar din of the lunchtime crowd.  
  
As the door closed behind them, the first drops of rain began falling from the clouds they had seen earlier from orbit, blown in off the sea exactly as predicted.  
  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=31499>


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